It’s official. I’m past the honeymoon period of being off work, not having to leave my house at 5.30am, running to the Tube, cram in the overnight market comments to Canary Wharf, sit at my desk, maybe a lunch, likely a drink and then another and then yet another only to get home, pass out and begin again the next day. I’m passed the last few weeks of pregnancy, the anticipation, the excitement, the impatience (oh yes, I have very little patience). I’m through the first very difficult couple of months of sleep deprivation and intensive learning and I’m out the other end. Oh god I hate to say this but it’s true. I’m not happy. I know that I should be. I absolutely adore my beautiful son Alexander. He is an angel. The most amazing, amazing thing that has ever happened to me and yet it is not enough. I never seem to be happy. My whole life came so easily to me that I do not appreciate things easily. It has to be a curse; not being able to appreciate what you have when you have it so good.
We are just back from Paris, 3 Michelin-starred restaurants and a stay at Le Bristol (separate post coming up!) and yet I am constantly worried, thinking, planning, plotting. What am I going to do next? Do we try now for baby number two or do I try to look for a job back in the City? (We need the money). Do I look elsewhere (the City job is a hostile one and not conducive to family)? Do I work on my Internet business plan? ( I have a brilliant idea and half a business plan completed!) I am indecisive and blowing hot and cold at the moment. More than anything I want financial security-no, more than that, who am I kidding- wealth. I’ve lived nearly forty years and I haven’t got to grips with the fact that as the Rolling Stones say ‘you can’t always get what you want!’. Continue Reading
Off back to the EGA Wing at UCLH to see the midwife . I’m doing the usual ‘ take the time on the tube to write my blog’ thing. Mr Pregnantcitygirl reading the Metro opposite me (a scintillating addition to the post, that!). I’m lucky to have him come with me, in fact, I’m so lucky as it would be impossible trying to keep him away. I’ve been thinking lately; I love him so much. I don’t know what I’d do without him. I don’t think we have your average marriage. I feel safe and protected with him. He’s always looking out for me, looking after me. I would never ever be worried that we might have an argument and he would think badly of me. I am probably too dependent. He was under the Aston the other day (nothing new there, he’s always taking things off, putting them on, draining break fluid, fixing the aircon- he’s brilliant like that luckily, as we certainly couldn’t afford to send it to the garage every weekend!) and the jack collapsed. I exaggerate once again because he wasn’t under it, (or is that just a plain old lie then?!) he had been under it. I came out to see the car with no wheels on perched precariously on our drive, resting on its chassis. He could easily have been crushed. Given that I’ve berm stung twice this summer by a wasp, my first time in 38 years of life, I am worried that my luck is running out or running low at the moment at least, so I really contemplated the tragic possibility of the worst at that moment and it’s not worth contemplating, if that the right way of putting it, so that it doesn’t sound like I might have been thinking that there was a positive side to it!
At the hospital now. Men are funny creatures. Start talking to complete strangers over football. I think football is for thugs but one thing I must say is that it seems unites people, when they’re on the same side that is. I think it’s a bit of an alien concept for women, forgive me all you football-loving geezer birds!! Continue Reading
11.37 now. I’m at work. I’m bored. It’s late for me as I’d usually be on my way out the door by now after my token daily office visit. Today is different. I have an interview for a job I don’t want at 5.30. I don’t remember the last time I had to be in the City at 5.30. Let alone to so something that really is a waste of time. However, I still need to look keen and professional (hence no cancelling at the last minute for me). I can’t bring myself to turn down a job opportunity just yet, even though I am supposed to be comfortable in my decision to quit the City as and when this redundancy finally happens. In the meantime, I am sitting tight, still getting paid so can’t complain. Continue Reading